Gemini
by babybaguette
Summary: The Alpha Pack did a little more than rough Isaac up that night. Canon divergent- s03e 03. Warnings: rape, (possible)abuse, mpreg.
1. Bug

The nausea had started a little while after they'd gone to Deaton's to get his memories of... that night back. The sudden rush of sensations long forgotten, the taste of fear in his mouth, losing feeling in his extremities; Isaac chocked it up to his body rejecting everything recent that had happened. The Alphas had done a bit of a number on his body, after all. Nausea was normal for a shock victim, he told himself. Nothing to worry about, he told himself, it'll be gone in a few days.

But there was a little voice in the back of his mind that told him no, do worry and no, it won't be gone in a few days. Go get help. Get Derek. Get Deaton. Get Scott. Tell someone. But Isaac wouldn't; besides, who would want to hear about his tummy ache when there was a demon wolf on the loose?

But lo and behold, the sickness did not retreat. It didn't even ebb- if anything, it had gotten worse since that night in the icy tub. Isaac had to be careful to not arouse suspicions; he left early in the morning, when he found he was most susceptible to being ill, and stayed away until he was sure the toxic smell of vomit and fear had worn off. At school, he had to tiptoe around Scott's nose that was trained to sniff out sickness. The Alphas were already the prime concern, why bother his pack with anything else?

Unfortunately, it wasn't his pack he needed to be worried about.

"Hey, is everything alright?"

Isaac was leaning against a locker, fighting off a wave of nausea with an accompanying headache, when Allison's concerned voice filled his thoughts. He spun around, one arm still supporting his weight.

"Why do you care?" he retorted rudely. He instantly regretted it, but anything to get her off his back. He turned his face back to the cool metal in hopes that she would go away along with his sickness.

Allison grabbed Isaac's shoulder and forced him to face her. "Hey," she said sternly, "I care because you're my friend, alright?" She gave him a look that a mother might give her son. "Now tell me what's wrong."

Her hand felt strong and reassuring on Isaac's arm and he met her gaze with tired eyes. The voice in the back of his mind told him to go for it; after all, werewolves didn't get sick. He needed someone else to know what was going on. Allison was right; they were friends to an extent. And she could then ask Scott, an aspiring vet, or her father, who knew as much there is know about werewolf lore.

Then the nausea kicked itself up a notch and Isaac had to bend over his stomach to cope. Allison caught him and held him tighter.

"I think," panted Isaac, "I think I'm sick."

* * *

The table in Deaton's office was no more comfortable than the tub of ice. It was cold and hard and it was too short for a person to lay on so Isaac's legs swung over the edge. The whole building smelled like other animals and cleaning supplies and it was making Isaac sick again.

As soon as she could, Allison had informed Scott of what Isacc had told her, Scott told Stiles, and Stiles finally passed the information on to Derek, and as soon as school was out, the whole team plus Lydia were headed to Deaton's office. Cora was unable to join them as she was undergoing job hunting and frankly nobody wanted Peter there. The pack sat out in the cramped waiting room while the vet looked Isaac over.

"Now, Isaac, I want you to close your eyes," Deaton lowered his voice to a calm hush, "and I want you to focus on the source of the sickness." Isaac did as he was told and shut his eyes, relaxing his body and doing a mental search for anything out of the ordinary. He started at his head, where there had been headaches for as long as the nausea, then moved to his chest and took deep, trying breaths in and out, then rested at his lower belly, where cramps had been setting in for a couple days.

As he did his search, Isaac reported everything out loud to Deaton, whom he could hear humming in interest. As soon as he mentioned the cramps in his abdomen, Deaton's humming stopped and the vet shifted on his feet. Isaac opened his eyes and saw that the vet was deep in thought.

"What?" the werewolf sat up on his elbows. "Is... is that bad? Are cramps bad?" Because they felt bad. Isaac just wanted to know what was wrong with him, get some medicine, and go home(well, to Derek's home, that the alpha had been so generous in sharing). But Deaton placed a hand on his shoulder and eased him back onto the table.

"For now, I don't know. I'm going to need a closer look." Isaac took a few more deep breaths as the vet lifted his shirt and began pressing his fingers into his hipbones and lower abdomen. He could hear Deaton's heartbeat begin to pound as his fingers worked harder into his tissue.

"Hey," Isaac exclaimed, grabbing Deaton's wrist, "that hurt!" He looked up at the vet who was, to Isaac's concern, looking back at him with a worried expression. Deaton had hit what felt like a soft spot at a low midpoint in-between his hips. A dull throb was still there like a warning.

The silence is the room was tangible as Deaton mentally processed all of the evidence Isaac had voluntarily and involuntarily given him. Isaac let go of the vet's wrist and stayed propped up on his elbows until a cramp panged in his belly and he lay back down.

"I'm going to need some things from you," said Deaton, donning latex gloves and handing Isaac a small plastic cup. "Just to be sure."

After a short trip to the bathroom, Isaac was subjected to more deep-tissue excavations and having blood drawn.

"Scott," Deaton called into the waiting room, "I'm going to need a little help in here."

As the vet and vet-to-be ran different tests, Isaac put his shirt back on and got off the cold table. He leaned against the back wall and wondered what could be wrong with him that Deaton needed to run all these tests.

"Dr. Deaton, I don't understand," Scott was holding a small vial of isaac's blood in one hand and a small white palette in the other, "why are you doing these tests? These are for-"

"Just trust me, Scott," replied Deaton, saturating a sample of the urine with powder and swirling it around. "These are just precautions. If none of them, then it will be for the better."

Isaac shifted on his feet nervously. "Are you guys gonna tell me exactly what kinds of tests you're doing over there?" It was getting late. He just wanted to go back to Derek's and sleep.

Scott looked over at Deaton, who shook his head in a warning. Scott then looked back at his friend and gave him a sympathetic look as if to apologize, then went back to working.

Tuning his hearing out to the waiting room, Isaac could hear Stiles's foot tapping impatiently, Lydia texting, and Allison talking to Derek.

"...Be fine," he heard her say in a comforting tone. "It's just a bug. He'll heal and this'll all be over."

"Werewolves don't get 'bugs'," Derek replied forcefully. Even from the next room, Isaac could hear the anxiety and frustration in his voice. "Never in my life or in my family has anyone ever gotten a 'bug.'" The alpha paused and when he next spoke there was a growl in his voice. "The Alpha pack did this. They did something to my beta."

There was a hint of vendetta in his voice and Scott looked back at Isaac as if he'd heard it, too.

At some point in the night, Isaac went back out into the waiting room. Allison went on a food run and everyone ate tacos, except for Isaac.

"Aren't you hungry?" Lydia asked, delicately wiping a piece of meat from her lip. "You didn't eat anything at lunch, either." Isaac shook his head and refrained from looking at anyone's food.

"I'm fine, thanks. I'd probably just throw it back up anyway."

At around 8:45, there was a small commotion in Deaton's office where, to those with werewolf hearing, it sounded like Scott was arguing with the vet over the result of one of the tests.

At 8:48, the arguing continued and it had risen to the point that even the humans could hear it now, but no one could make out explicitly what they were arguing about. Sometimes it sounded like they were arguing about the color blue and sometimes they were arguing about moon phases. Isaac just sat patiently and wished he were asleep.

At 9:00, Boyd went home and asked that someone give him the results tomorrow.

"It is getting late," Lydia remarked, checking the time on her phone. "I canceled a date for this, you know." She crossed her arms and legs in a huff. "I don't even know why I'm mixed up in all this crazy werewolf business anyway-"

"Yeah, well, no one asked you to come, alright?" Stiles exclaimed, nervous anger in his voice. He'd been quiet all night, chewing his nails and bouncing his legs. It seemed that the anxiety of the situation had affected him as well. Isaac observed as Lydia looked down at her knees and Stiles went back to worrying his fingers. Everyone it the room knew that there was more to this than a bug.

* * *

"Isaac, Derek." Dr. Deaton stood in the doorway to his office with his hands clasped in front of him. "I need to talk to you."

His tone was heavy and the two werewolves obeyed immediately. Soon it was just the three humans left in the waiting room.

Scott was leaning against the counter with a pitiful look on his face. He gave Isaac that apologetic look one more time and then turned to grab the test results.

"I can tell you right now that Isaac's not sick." The vet took the materials from Scott and laid them out on the examination table. There were two plastic sticks, a printed piece of paper, and a cup of blue liquid. "But I'm afraid the news is a little heavier than the flu."

"What did the Alphas do to him?" Derek asked, remaining calm for the time being. Deaton just motioned to the items on the table.

"Do you know what these are?"

The two wolves not in the clear looked over them. Isaac shook his head, but Derek pointed the plastic stick shaped like a digital thermometer.

"I'm fairly certain what that one is," he pointed to the piece of paper. "And I can also read. Now tell me, what is wrong with Isaac?"

Scott motioned to the first plastic stick. "This is a human pregnancy test," he explained, then moved on. "This is a test for a chemical called relaxin. This is a urine test for hCG, and this is a blood test for hCG and progesterone." He paused. "All of them are positive. And all of them are from you, Isaac."

There was a stunned silence in the room as Isaac processed the information. Derek clenched his fists and looked down, as if he'd already known what the answer was going to be. Both Deaton and Scott were gauging Isaac's reaction.

"So that means..." Isaac began, but lost the words.

"It means you're pregnant," Deaton finished for him.


	2. Male-Werewolf-Baby

The ride back to Derek's loft was spent in painful silence. Painful for the lack of words and, on Isaac's part, for the sharp cramps that he now knew the origin of.

After Deaton had given everyone the news, there were mixed reactions. Scott seemed overly apologetic, Stiles was still quiet(the oddest occurrence that night), Allison looked conflicted and confused, and Lydia was the only one to take it with a light heart.

"Well, I guess this is my chance to finally plan a baby shower." She shrugged. "I always thought the first one to get knocked up would be Allison, though."

"Lydia!" Allison traded looks with Scott and flushed.

"What? With all the 'mating' you two do, it was bound to happen sooner or-"

"Do you think this is a joke?!" Derek exploded. He gestured to Isaac. "The Alphas did this to him! That night they kidnapped him and beat him? Remember that?" He stepped up to Lydia, who was standing her ground in the face of Derek's anger. "Turns out they also not only raped, but impregnated my beta!" His claws were out by now and his eyes glowed red with rage.

"Hey, hey, hey, Derek, buddy, that's enough," Stiles came up from behind and grabbed both of Derek's shoulders in an attempt to hold him back. "Let's not go tearing out throats here, alright?" The alpha's eyes went back to a smokey green and his claws retracted, but his body stayed tense. He eyed the room, especially Lydia, with a mean resolve.

"I don't know what your problem is," said Lydia in a cold voice, "but it is no reason to freak out on everyone. I get it, you're angry, you might even want revenge, but right now, you should be more worried about what to do, not what to react." She crossed her arms. "At least I was thinking about the future. I mean, where is Isaac's baby going to get all it's stuff if it doesn't have a shower?"

"You're taking this almost too well for someone only recently attached to the werewolf community," Stiles commented, his hands still on Derek, but in a softer, almost comforting hold. Lydia shrugged in response.

"After everything that happened last year? I'm willing to accept weird. Even if weird is a male-werewolf-baby."

The room fell into another silence. After a while, everyone was looking at Isaac, expecting a reaction.

The young beta stuttered. "What... What am I supposed to do?" He looked at Scott and then Deaton, wanting for answers.

"First we need to see exactly what we're dealing with," the doctor said. The teenagers turned their gaze towards him. "What I mean is, the fetus might not even be human. For all we know, it could be full wolf, or another creature, like your friend Jackson was." Lydia looked down at her shoes. "So what I need is a full examination. And for that, I need your help, Scott, or rather, your mother's."

Deaton explained that he needed access to several things, including a rape kit and an ultrasound machine. Since Ms. McCall was in on the deal with werewolves and the Alpha pack, she was the most valuable asset until they could figure out how to effectively help Isaac. With a few late-night phone calls, a date was set where Deaton and Isaac, with the help of Melissa, would go to the hospital and do a full-body check up.

After that was all settled, Dr. Deaton told everyone to go home and get some sleep. He let them go with a warning.

"I hope you all realize what this means. This isn't some bad guy that you can kill, or hunters that you can evade or an assignment you can shirk. This means a real, live creature. This is your first pack pup. And I'm sorry that this responsibility was thrust on you at such a young age, I really am. But now it's here." He stood in the doorway, his arms crossed, looking over each of the teens' faces. "And I hope you can handle it. Because while I am more than just a vet, I still am a vet, and I won't always be there to help you."

So everyone went home with a heavy heart that night; Stiles rode off in his Jeep, Allison in her car and Lydia in hers, and Isaac and Derek in the Toyota. Scott stayed behind to help with some late night appointments. On the way home, the cramps returned with a vengeance.

That night, Isaac lay in bed and dwelled on the day's occurrences. He began to regret telling Allison about being sick. He regretted needing to go for help. I should have dealt with it myself, he thought, instead of getting everyone worked up. He rolled onto his side. Now everyone would blame him, thinking it was his fault he got raped-

Well, that's your fault.

This is your fault!

It's your fault!

Isaac jolted in his bed, bodily cringing at the memories of his father staring down at him, about to close the refrigerator box, throwing glass or books, locking him out of the house, or beating him with his bare fists, blaming him for everything that had gone wrong for him.

Maybe the cramps in Isaac's middle got worse just then or maybe he was just that much more aware of them. The young werewolf curled into as tight a ball as he could, shielding himself from the outside world, and cradled his aching belly.

"I will... never," he murmured, his voice trembling with pain, both past and present, "do those things to you. I promise... I will never hurt you."

* * *

"How are you going to explain a baby?" Stiles piped up through a mouthful of curly fries. The next day at lunch, the whole pack gathered at one table to discuss Isaac's situation. Everyone was still tense after Derek's reaction to it.

"What do you mean?" Isaac asked, picking at but not eating a plate of noodles.

"I mean, once it's... here, how are you going to explain the sudden appearance of a new human being? I mean, you can't just put 'mother: unknown' on a birth certificate." He paused. "Can you?"

"No, you can't," Lydia replied, popping a strawberry into her mouth. She licked her rosy lips. "You'll just have to say the baby is someone else's and claim it was a home birth. I don't know who would volunteer for something like that, though, so good luck-"

She looked up and noticed all the eyes at the table we trained on her. "Oh, no, no way. Isaac, you're sweet, but there is no way I'm being your fake baby-momma."

The whole table seemed to hum in thought. Boyd started tapping his fingers against his energy drink and Allison twirled curiously at her salad.

"Anyone else notice how freaked out Derek was last night?" Allison asked, looking up meekly, as if she was afraid to step outside of some invisible boundary. "I mean," she lowered her voice, "he honestly looked like he wanted to kill someone."

"The rape of a beta is one of the greatest offenses you can do to an alpha," Stiles answered promptly. "It's almost the same thing as intruding on their territory." He took a swig of milk and met Boyd's questioning gaze. "What?"

"How do you know so much all of a sudden?" the beta asked.

"Uh, am I the only one around here that does their research?" Stiles waved his arms out for emphasis as the table shrugged and continued to play with their food. "And hey, why is no one eating? Isaac, c'mon, dude, you need to eat, especially now that you're-"

"Now that he's what?" Danny set down a tray next to Scott and joined their group. The conversation screeched to a halt as Stiles floundered for a way to finish that sentence.

"He's uh, he... He's doing a more intense exercise regime!" He patted Isaac on the back and was met with an icy glare. Danny chuckled.

"That's probably a good thing," he said, "if coach sees all that weight you've been gaining, you're in deep trouble."

The table, save for Danny, exchanged glances with Isaac and went back to "eating" their lunch.

* * *

"I'll do it."

Isaac whipped around to see Cora shrugging her shoulders. He and Derek had been discussing the issue Stiles had brought up at lunch earlier about explaining where the baby came from.

"I can say the baby's mine," she offered, somewhat stoic. "I can say I had a traditional home birth and have been traveling so I didn't have time to get the birth certificate. I'll be the official mom, but you'll be the real mom."

Isaac grimaced slightly at being called "mom," but smiled nonetheless at Cora. "Thank you," he said quietly.

Derek leaned against the desk and watched the exchange. Now he stood up and put a hand on Isaac's shoulder.

"C'mon," he said, "we still have to get you to see Ms. McCall and Deaton at the hospital." Isaac got up and obediently followed Derek out to his van.

The doctor and nurse had set up in a room close to the back that no one was using. It looked more like a closet than an actual hospital room, but they were going for discretion, not style.

"Isaac, hey," Ms. McCall said, coming up with touch Isaac's arm. "I heard about you're, um..." she cast a glance back at Deaton. "Condition. We're gonna see what we can do to help." She gave a warm smile to the beta and guided him into the room.

There was an inclined bed and an ultrasound machine wheeled in there, along with a cart stacked with supplies, boxes, and instruments, the likes of which Isaac had never seen.

He lay down on the bed and was instructed to take his clothes off. When he stopped at just his shirt, Melissa put a hand on his arm.

"No, sweetie," she said, "your clothes." Isaac mentally stopped. Clothes meaning all of his clothes.

Deaton started rummaging through the cart and came up with a handful of swabs.

"Derek, you may want to step outside."


	3. Do What?

"...I have a what?"

"A birth canal, it seems." Deaton clasped his hands in front of his body. "Your body went through certain... changes after conception. Werewolves have the ability to reproduce a little differently, you see."

Melissa rubbed the creases on her forehead. "Okay... I can handle going crazy on the full moon, a pack of alphas, the getting injured every other day thing, I can even handle lizard people! But boys with uteruses? I don't know, Deaton."

"Werewolves are a rare species, correct?" the doctor began, rifling through some papers on the cart. "and a species borne through supernatural occurrences, at that. Over the centuries, the species began to evolve to preserve it's race, even if it meant switching gender roles up a bit."

"So, what, am I turning into a girl?" Isaac asked, putting his shirt back on.

"Nothing quite so drastic." Deaton held a piece of paper up to the light. "You simply have a new growth in your body. It'll probably turn into waste as soon as the baby is born, and your birth canal with heal shut. Now take your shirt back off."

"But I thought I was-"

"We're not done yet, Isaac." Deaton rapped his knuckles on the door. "You can come back in, Derek."

The alpha reentered the room. "So, what did you find out?"

"Like you didn't already hear," Ms. McCall snickered. Derek gave her an odd look. "Oh, don't play that card with me. I already know Scott listens in on my conversations, and if he can do it, I know you can."

Derek sighed. "So what do you still have to find out?" he asked, changing tactics.

"I need DNA samples from all the male members of the Alpha pack, to see who the perpetrator is. I'm sure you can handle that." The doctor smiled and Derek let out a low growl. "But for now, we need to see what's going on inside of Isaac's body. That's what this is for." He patted the ultrasound machine.

Isaac did as he was told, taking his shirt back off and laying back down. Melissa squirted a clear gel onto his stomach and he hissed in protest.

"Yeah, sorry," she said, not sounding sorry, "that's gotta be cold."

"I've had worse," Isaac said, watching as the nurse spread the stuff around on his skin and fired up the machine. With one hand, she started moving a thick wand around his belly. The screen yielding nothing but black and white shapes, pulsing in rhythm to Isaac's heartbeat. Melissa looked hard at the screen until she stopped at one place near the base of Isaac's belly and looked harder.

"Is that what I think it is?" Deaton asked, coming closer to the screen. Melissa nodded, her eyes still fixed on the black and white blobs.

"What?" Derek asked, taking a step forward. "What is it? I can't see anything but a bunch of static."

Using her free hand, Ms. McCall pointed to one little blob on the screen. "That," she said, "is a baby." Isaac could see it now; it's bulb of a head, attached to a scrawny little bean that must be it's body. The nurse moved her finger a little to the side.

"And that's another one."

A hush fell over the room broken only by the hum of the machine and the whining of the light. It didn't really sink into Isaac right away. His mind was busy searching for a word.

What was it? he thought. Couple, a bunch, multiples...

Twins.

Twins.

"Twins."

He looked around the room frantically and saw everyone was staring at him. Melissa looked worried, Derek seemed confused. Deaton was the only one who seemed unphased.

"It's not that uncommon for werewolves to have litters of multiples," he commented, looking back at the screen. "In fact, most litters consist of two pups or more. With real wolves, it's closer to four or five." Isaac wished Deaton would stop using the word "litter."

"Any idea when they're due?" Melissa asked, taking the wand off and wiping Isaac down with a paper towel.

"Werewolves coincide with real wolves in that aspect," the vet replied. "The term for wolves is about 63 days, or nine weeks. How far along would you say he is based on the size of the fetuses?"

"Gosh, they're so tiny, um... I don't know, a few days? Going by that time frame I'd say about four to five, at most."

Deaton turned to Isaac, who was once again putting his shirt back on. "Then I expect you to come back to my office for another check-up in a week." He smiled. "I'll see you then."

* * *

"He wants you to what? Is he crazy?"

"You're welcome to help, you know. I'm having the whole pack help me." Derek sat down and ran a hand through his hair. Peter circled the desk with his arms crossed.

"You've yet to take down even one of them," said Peter incredulously, "how are you going to manage discreetly taking samples of their DNA without them seeing, hearing, or smelling you?"

"I don't know," the alpha replied, sounding defeated. "Stealth. Maybe bait."

"So, you're sending your betas into a death trap, that's what you're saying?"

"Like I said, you're welcome to help."

"Risen from the grave, remember? I'm still out of commission." Peter smirked. Derek growled.

"That excuse is getting worn out, uncle."

Isaac sat on his bed in the other room, mulling over what he'd learned earlier. Male pregnancies amongst werewolves were normal to some extent. He was having twins.

He was having twins. I'm having twins.

The realization came to him then like a ton of bricks. Twins! Two human beings! They would have thoughts and feelings and ideas and a favorite color. They would also be werewolves, born and raised, like Aidan and Ethan, hopefully with a little less bloodlust. They might grow up and find their own pack. They might start a pack. One of them might be an alpha.

Isaac didn't realize he was crying until he felt drop on his hands; they were rested on his stomach, which for the first time in days he realized had started to go soft. Danny was right; he was gaining weight. But now that he knew why, Isaac found he didn't really care.

* * *

"You need to do what now?"

Stiles jumped in front of Isaac's path as they journeyed down the hall to their next class. Isaac sighed.

"I'll just sneak out to their bikes, grab a couple hairs, and be back in for the next class." He shoved Stiles out of the way and continued towards the door out to the parking lot.

"Yeah, but what if they see you? I mean, what if even one of them sees you? You're not exactly in any condition to fight them off." Stiles waved frantically, trying to distract the beta and failing. "Something tells me there a more than a little protective over those things- I bet they cost a pretty penny, and I mean, if anything were to happen to them, what would they-"

With an annoyed growl, Isaac shoved Stiles against the nearest locker and pinned him there. "Do you ever pause for breath?"

"Not really, not usually, no. I've got lungs of steel and a windpipe that just keeps going, pup." He pushed against Isaac's arm, put the beta had him in a firm hold. "Yeah, okay, pregnant but not incapacitated, duly noted. I'm telling, you, dude, don't mess with their bikes, it's a bad idea-"

But Isaac had already let go and was headed towards the door. Behind him, he could hear through the din of the crowd Stiles's exasperated sighs of indignation. He realized that Stiles was probably just trying to look out for him, but Isaac honestly believed he didn't need it. He could handle snatching a couple hairs now if it meant his alpha wouldn't have to risk his neck fighting them for it later.

They were kind of hard to miss. When Jackson "moved away" they soon became the most expensive vehicles on campus, and they were parked in stark contrast right next to Scott's second-hand, bright green dirt bike. And sure enough, there were the helmets, hanging in sync on their respective handlebars.

Students were beginning to empty into the school; class was starting soon. Isaac bent down and grabbed one of the shining black helmets. What class did the twins have this hour? Was it close? He just needed some more time to-

"Well, what do we have here?"

Isaac jumped and spun on the balls of his feet to look up at the twins themselves, glaring down at him with their arms hanging offensively at their sides.

"Like our bikes, huh, beta?" One of them(Isaac could not and was confident that he would never be able to tell them apart unless one of them was stitched to Danny's side so he resigned himself to just referring to them as twins one and two) growled. Isaac flinched as the alpha spat out the word 'beta' like it was an insult.

"How many bones are in the human body?" one asked.

The other one circled and was soon on the other side of Isaac; no escape. He was outside and class was beginning; no one would hear him if he screamed.

"Let's find out."

The twins seemed to be thinking the same thing as they smirked and advanced.


	4. Leashed

"...c..."

Being knocked out cold was only a half unpleasant experience. It's the actual knocking out that people tend to dislike. The 'out cold' part is actually pretty peaceful. It's like an instant, heavy sleep. Sometimes there are dreams, but most of the time it's just like floating through darkness.

"...I...ac..."

He would know. He's been knocked out plenty of times. Whether it be from a flying fist, or a stray piece of furniture, or even asphyxiation. It's comparable to being put to sleep with an anesthetic; at first, your body wants to fight it, to do anything to stay awake, but after a while, it decides that it's time to give in, that maybe sleeping would be better.

"...c...Is...ac!"

Until you wake up, that is.

The first thing Isaac felt was a raging pain in the side of his head that reverberated through what felt like his entire body. The first thing he heard was his name being called from far, far way. It got closer like a train coming towards you in a tunnel. And the first thing he saw when he opened his eyes was the blurry outline of five or six people crowded around him like spectators. Closest was Allison; she had been calling his name.

And the first thing he remembered was being jumped by the Alpha twins. And that made him remember his own twins.

Isaac sat up, trying frantically to get his bearings and see if he was healing. If they had hit him anywhere near the belt...

"Isaac!" Allison sounded relieved and panicked at the same time as she held back his shoulders, trying to get him to lean against the boulder he had been propped up against. "Isaac, Isaac, hey, hey, calm down, hey!"

Allison grabbed his wrist and held it in a vice grip. He could break her hold, sure, but what he saw frightened him and he immediately stopped fighting. His claws were out- he had transformed without meaning to.

"What... Wha-?" Isaac began, but the huntress already had all the answers.

"Scott heard it before he saw it. Somehow, he knew you were in trouble. He came here as fast as he could and chased off the twins. They didn't fight back, so that must mean they're planning something bigger." She pushed a piece of stray hair behind her ear and Isaac saw it- a streak of blood running down her arm from a sharp scratch. Recent, like, within the last thirty seconds recent.

"Did I do that?" asked Isaac, looking up at Allison. It was stupid to ask; of course he did. "I... I'm sorry, I'm so, so sorry..."

She looked down at her wrist, as if she hadn't yet noticed the cut herself. "Oh, no, it's nothing, it's okay." But Isaac caught the small wince that passed through her eyes and cringed inside. He'd hurt someone without meaning to. That hadn't happened since he first got turned.

Scott came running up and crouched beside the two of them.

"You guys alright?" he asked, looking them both over. He noticed Allison's arm and the blood underneath Isaac's fingernails, but did nothing but squinch his face. "They ran into the woods. Probably back to wherever they have the rest of their pack." He looked down at the other beta. "Are you okay?" Concern first, anger later. A concept Isaac had never known before, not even with Derek or the coach or any of his teachers.

"Did they get the-?" Isaac stopped his sentence short, afraid of the answer. Instead he just hugged his middle until he was sure Scott or Allison got the message. What if the alphas knew? What if they had smelled it on him?

But Scott shook his head. "No, they only got to your arms and face before I got to you," he replied. "And you were lucky I did! What were you doing, provoking something like that? At school? While you're like... this?"

And there was the discipline. Isaac knew he shouldn't be afraid of violent consequence, after all, Scott was asking fair questions; but he still couldn't help but cringe every time someone raised their voice. Isaac struggled to remember what he had done to cause the alphas to attack him. He looked around and saw the remnants of a small fight crowd, a teacher, racing out to see what the trouble was, and the bikes.

Allison tilted her head and touched Isaac's other hand, which was closed into a fist at his side. "What's this?" she asked, gently prying the beta's hand open to reveal two short, light brown hairs. Isaac grinned at Scott, who gave him a disapproving eyeroll, but took the hairs nonetheless.

"I'll take them to Deaton after school." He reached to help both Allison and Isaac, who was already healing, back to class.

* * *

It was raining later that day, and into the night. Isaac's wounds from earlier that day were shallow, so even though they were administered by an alpha, they didn't take more than two class periods to heal. The blood had long since been washed away, and his shirt was changed. An excuse had been made up to the teacher about the fight, something about them picking on Isaac and Scott acting as the knight in shining armor. Scott even managed to get one of them suspended. All that was left was to confront Derek.

Like bringing home the kill to share, bringing home news was customary in packs. It maintained a locus of trust if all the members knew what each other was doing. If everyone was on the same page, there was harmony in the pack. Isaac might feel a little guilty if Derek went off and tried to pry a sample from the twins knowing that he'd already gotten one.

Isaac just hoped that his alpha would react well to his daring endeavor.

"You idiot!" Derek roared. Nope. Not a good reaction at all. "You could've gotten yourself seriously injured, or worse, killed!"

"I saw an opportunity, so I thought-"

"No, you don't just think, not with an adversary like this. They aren't afraid to kill you, Isaac! They have no inhibition; they killed their own packs, what makes you think they'd have trouble killing you?"

Isaac shuffled his feet. This wasn't going like he'd hoped. "I didn't think they'd just show up like that."

"So you were off your guard, as well. Nice." Derek ran a hand that was on the verge of claws through his hair. Cora lingered in the nearest doorway and Peter sat placidly, as always, on the steps to up to the loft. An uncomfortable silence weighed heavily in the room. It was then that Isaac noticed the stench of blood rising up from the floorboards. Stale blood. Derek's blood.

"Was... was there a fight here?" Now that he looked closely, he could see claw marks littering the floor, a bandaged pipe where a bar was ripped out, bruises on Cora's jaw. "Guys...?" Still no answer out of any of three. Isaac let out a nervous chuckle. "I-I don't get it. Did something happen?"

Derek wouldn't look at him. He instead stared out the window at the torrent of rain as if it held all the answers to his problems, problems of which Isaac had next to no idea about. Eventually, his alpha sighed out a response.

"It's just... not going to work with both of you here." The thunder rumbled above them, accompanied by a flash of lightning. "I've got Cora now... It's too much. I need you out tonight." There was something about his voice, like he knew he was regretting every word he was saying, but he knew he had to keep saying them for someone's sake other than his own.

That didn't sit with Isaac. He laughed anxiously and waited to see if Derek was joking. He wasn't.

"Where am I supposed to go?" He looked back to Derek. Was this some kind of joke? Training exercise? He was hardly in any state to take any version of either.

"Somewhere else."

There was a pause. Maybe, Isaac thought with trepidation, maybe this is my fault. "...Did I do something wrong, Derek?" The words were poison in his mouth; he'd said them so many times.

His alpha finally faced him, angry. "You're doing something wrong right now by not leaving." He gestured to the waiting door with his water glass. "Just get out."

"No, please-" Isaac tried to plead.

"Get out," Derek insisted.

"C'mon-"

"Go!"

Isaac ducked down as soon as he saw Derek's arm twitch. It was an action so familiar to him it was like blinking. The arm goes up, duck and cover your vitals, or at least your face. Protect what you could. The glass smashed in perfect synchronization with a lightning strike, as if to punctuate it.

He slowly unfurled his body and mentally checked himself. None of the shards had hit him. He was lucky, or Derek hadn't really meant to hit him. Just to scare him. Isaac turned and glanced at his alpha one last pleading time before grabbing his bag- all he owned- and walking out the door.

It was a long walk to Scott's.


	5. What to Expect

"It's not them." Deaton shuffled through some papers, glanced at them, and promptly threw them into the recycling bin. "Neither of the twins are the father."

Isaac could do nothing but stare at the vet, dumbfounded. After all he had gone through to get those stupid hairs, neither of those douchebags were the father? Isaac supposed that was something to relent and something to congratulate at the same time.

"That leaves only two candidates, under the impression, that is, that it was just the Alphas that took advantage of you," the vet continued.

"You mean there could've been others?" Isaac asked, adjusting his hold on his backpack. That was a disturbing thought.

"Highly unlikely, but still likely." Deaton leaned over his examination table and looked Isaac in the eyes. "See, the only way for a male werewolf to conceive is if the other partner is an alpha. That aspect is still under speculation, but we think it's something to do with an alpha's control over the population of his pack. Female alphas cannot cause a male to carry; not if they can do it themselves."

Under speculation? Who speculated these things?

"So, could that mean that..." Isaac looked up at the doctor, who answered with a small, slightly amused smile.

"I've already checked," he said. "Derek didn't do this to you. I have blood samples on file of all of you. I already checked all of them, in case the alpha rule decided to take a day off." Isaac let out a metaphorical sigh of relief. But that still meant he had to get samples from Ennis and Deucalion.

"How do you propose I get close to the other Alphas?"

Deaton tilted his head like the dogs he took care of. "I don't propose you do it at all; it's too risky. Isn't Derek helping you?"

"Derek is..." Isaac looked down at his dirty shoes. "Um... I'm on my own for a while."

"Then go to Scott," replied Deaton promptly. "He's your next best bet. Actually, I'd say he's your first best bet. Scott's got a better grip on responsibility than Derek does." Deaton gripped Isaac's arm reassuringly "He can help you get the rest of the samples. I'd say I'd like to help, but," he stepped back to the table, "I'm just a vet." Deaton smiled.

Isaac liked the doctor. He'd been good help for the past couple months, and more prominently in the previous and coming weeks. He just hoped he was right about Scott.

* * *

Isaac had completely forgotten about the killings in his and the pack's frenzy with this new...conflict. The killings, or as Stiles called them, sacrifices, were starting to increase in number. The three virgins, and now the three men with a military affiliation. The last two were just missing, but it could be pretty well discerned what their fate would be.

The Durach, or "dark oak," as Deaton had helped them to decipher, was the one behind this. Who exactly this Durach was was still a mystery, however. But it was up to either the FBI or Derek's pack to figure it out.

Lydia was already very close to the situation. How, though, was still under speculation. The problem was was that she kept stumbling on bodies; driving to a murder scene without meaning to, ending up in the music room without knowing how she got there. What was scary was that the last time this had happened, she'd been poisoned by Peter's alpha bite and made to hallucinate. It ended up in Peter coming back from the grave.

The pack was crossing their claws that something as drastic didn't happen again.

But until they figured something out, the whole school was in a frenzy. Two teachers gone, two students killed, and frequent animal attacks had drawn the student body into a state of veritable panic. It seemed like every student and teacher was worried for everyone's safety.

Except for one.

"C'mon, ladies, I wanna see some hustle! We need to get in as many practices as we can before this meet!" The coach scanned the locker room. The actual girls on the team gave him scrupulous looks. "No offense, ladies."

Isaac held his gym shorts in his hands. He had no intention of dressing out or running today; he'd been sick since he woke up and was in no mood, physically or mentally, to run three miles first thing in the morning. Plus, he had no idea what the repercussions would be for the... for the...

He threw his shorts back in his locker and slammed the door. He couldn't even bring himself to think it.

Stiles jogged over, already in his running sweats. "Hey, dude, maybe you shouldn't do this, y'know, you don't know what it could-"

"I know. I've already thought about it." Isaac slammed his locker shut. "In fact, I'm thinking about quitting the team."

"Oh, well, that's probably great! I mean, for the, y'know- And what with the twins being on the team, too, it-"

"You can't quit!" Scott appeared behind Stiles(who jumped), a worried look on his face.

"Jeezus, Scott, dude, give a guy a warning-"

"Isaac, you have to stay on the team. We have safety in numbers. I can't protect you if we're apart."

"Who said I needed your protection?" Isaac asked incredulously. Scott leveled the fellow beta with a serious stare.

"Isaac, I hate to say it, but," he lowered his voice, "but you're vulnerable right now. You need all the protection you can get. And I'm sure that you can take care of yourself, I really am. But not with these guys around." Scott gestured with a nod to the Ethan. Isaac peered through the lockers and saw the Alpha twin slipping on a tight jersey. A glance over saw Danny watching, as well. Isaac felt a low growl rumble in his throat.

"Isaac," Scott said, putting a firm hand on his arm, "what's the point of a pack if all don't stick together?"

The two betas shared a look for what felt like hours and only broke when the coach blew his whistle.

"Hurry it up, ya ladi- ya babies! We got three miles to run, let's get our asses in gear!"

Isaac sighed and reopened his locker. "Fine," he said, peeling off his sweater and throwing it at Stiles("Hey!"), "I'll stay on the stupid team." But if he had a miscarriage he was blaming it on those two dweebs.

* * *

Isaac knew next to nothing when it came to pregnancies, pregnant people, or pregnant habits. All he knew was what Deaton and Ms. McCall had told him, which was that he would be more tired, that he should take it easy, maybe lay off the maiming and gang fights for a while. And while he'd taken those things to heart, he still had no idea what he was going into.

So when his nose was suddenly filled with the intoxicating smell of tomatoes and stomach growled with insatiable need it was entirely unprecedented.

Isaac lifted his head from where it was resting on the lunch table and looked around wildly for the source of the smell.

"Isaac?" Scott watched the frazzled beta twirl his head in every direction. "What are you doing? Is everything alright?" Isaac didn't answer, instead resorting to sticking his face towards the ceiling and trying to pinpoint the sweet scent.

"What? Timmy fall down a well?" Stiles slammed his plastic tray down on the table. Stiles wasn't a small eater by any means- his personal menu usually consisted of whatever entree the school had to offer, a couple sides, a water, and a milk. Today, his meal contained a burger, a few cookies, the usual beverage, and a salad.

A salad.

Isaac's eyes glowed as he spotted the diced fruits on Stiles's tray. What he felt was a similar sensation to spotting a target or a foe, or prey. He reached for them and was promptly swatted away.

"Hey, bad dog, get your own lunch," exclaimed Stiles, sheltering his lunch.

Isaac growled low in his chest and reached for the salad again, only to be once again denied.

"Dude, what is it with you and this salad?" Stiles asked wildly through a mouthful of cafeteria burger.

"Stiles, give him your salad," Lydia told the teen.

"What?" Why? I paid for it, he should get his own-"

"Actually, your dad paid for it," she replied, then leveled him with a stare, "now give the puppy your salad. Or else he's going to rip your throat out." She exaggerated her point with one painted nail in Isaac's direction, from where he was fuming and his eyes were still glowing.

"Hey, put those away," Allison warned, "before someone sees you and freaks out!" She glanced around to see if anyone was watching their table.

"Stiles, give him your salad!"

"Geez, fine!" Stiles tossed his styrofoam bowl over to Isaac, who immediately went for the little red fruits. "Sheesh, why's everyone so worked up about my salad? Why couldn't he just get his own?"

Lydia smirked and went back to her own lunch of pitas and hummus. "Cravings," she said simply. Scott tilted his head.

"Cravings?" he asked, looking from her to Isaac(who was currently licking the residual tomato juice off of the remaining lettuce leaves).

"Cravings. Pregnant people get cravings." She shrugged. "For crazy stuff, too. My mom told me that when she was pregnant with me, she had wanted Chicago deep-dish pizza with garlic and anchovies and wouldn't eat anything else for a week." Lydia tore off a piece of bread with her teeth.

Isaac looked up from the now-empty bowl he was twirling in his hands. "So, am I going to crave stuff like that, too? Like... anchovies?"

"It all depends on what your body needs," Lydia explained. "You obviously had a lack of lycopene in your body."

Stiles gave her a disbelieving look. "Hey, wait, why do you know so much about pregnancies all of a sudden?"

"You're not the only one who can do research, Stiles." Lydia smiled and clapped her hands of bread crumbs.

Isaac looked at the bowl in thought. Cravings, huh? What else was there about pregnancy that he had to look forward to?


	6. Star Player

She came to him in his dreams.

Engines racing, wheels screeching, and footsteps pounding, the sound of growls close in their ears. Bursting through the glass and crashing to the floor. Being whisked to the hospital. Finding her blood painted on the locker room walls.

She saved him. And they killed her.

A flash of lightning and Isaac sat bolt-upright in his bed, if you could call it that. The pullout couch in Scott's living room wasn't much as far as sleeping surfaces went, but it wasn't an alleyway or a person-sized refrigerator or a subway car. And it smelled like home. Not Isaac's home, of course. His home, when it was habitable, smelled like power tools and hardwood floors and sometimes blood. No, Scott's home smelled like Chinese takeout and dirty shoes and hospital scrubs and soap. It smelled like life.

Isaac slowly lay back down, taking deep breaths to calm his heart. It wasn't the first time he'd dreamt of her, of the girl. In the past week, he'd had three instances where the memories of that night came back in vivid detail. Every sensation, every emotion, were all heightened like he'd been under the influence. He only remembered what had happened from when he had been resuscitated to when they were taken to the hospital. Struggling to stay on the bike with the Alpha twins in hot pursuit, the claws out, taking a swipe as soon as they're in range-

Another flash of lightning, followed closely by a clash of thunder. There was a light rain outside; more noise than wet. Scott had gone to Allison's, but why he wouldn't say. He seemed... conflicted. Like he knew he was about to do something he would regret.

The clock in the kitchen said it was 11:36 PM. It was late at night; soon to be early in the morning. Isaac's mind told him he needed sleep, but his body was wide awake now. He was wired as if he were still in the warehouse, seeing the twins transform into that beast for the first time.

Isaac's hands fell to his lower belly. So neither of them had done this to him. That was a relief. Isaac wouldn't any part of them growing inside of his body. But then, the alternatives weren't much better. With the twins out, that left Ennis or Deucalion. Ennis, the big brute, and Deucalion, the mysterious leader. And then there was always the possibility that there was someone else; another Alpha that they knew nothing about. That sent shivers down Isaac's spine, that there was the chance, however slight, that they hadn't even begun to comprehend their adversary. That maybe there were more tricks up their sleeves. That maybe, just when they think they've won, the Alphas hadn't even started.

There were footsteps down the hall and Isaac jumped, but upon taking a closer listen they turned out to be Ms. McCall's. He looked up as she peered around the corner. Her hair was down and she was wearing grubby sweats as pajamas.

She smiled. "You awake, too?" she asked, coming to sit in the chair adjacent the couch.

"Yeah, couldn't sleep," Isaac replied, sitting up on his elbows. He'd thrown off his shirt at some point in the night and was left in naught but his gym shorts. He only had so much clothing, so he had to make rounds(thank goodness Ms. McCall was willing to do his laundry, bless her).

The rain pattered on outside, hitting the porch roof and making waterfalls down into the garden. There wasn't much to see out the window besides what one could make out from the light of the streetlamp and the waning moon.

"I, uh..." Melissa started uncomfortably, "I heard you yelling. Were you having a nightmare?"

He had been yelling?

"Um, what was I, uh, yelling about?" Isaac played with his fingers anxiously.

Ms. McCall crossed her arms and tucked herself into the chair. "I couldn't make all of it out," she replied, casting the occasional glance up at Isaac. "Something about a girl... 'don't touch her' or something like that." She met the teen's eyes. "Was it the girl at the hospital? Is that who you were dreaming about?"

Isaac nodded. Even now, his memory of the dream was fuzzy, but he was sure he would have it again in full IMAX. Melissa hummed in understanding and got up from the chair. She stopped halfway to the kitchen and looked down at Isaac.

"You know, Scott has nightmares, too. About Allison, most of the time." She looked down at her bare feet and smiled. "He told me once that one was about me. He was afraid I was going to get hurt."

That sounded like Scott. It seemed like he was always putting the interests of others before his own safety. Stupid, but chivalrous to say the least. It reminded Isaac of something derek had said last year, when they had that fight at Scott's house over Lydia, back when they thought that she was the Kanima. Scott was standing on his porch and he threw Erica, Isaac, and Boyd all out on the street. Stiles and Allison were at his sides, facing Derek down.

"You're not a beta," he'd said, "you're already an Alpha. Of your own pack."

And now that seemed true now more than ever. Isaac felt lately that he trusted Scott over anyone, even over Derek. He felt like he could control himself around the fellow beta.

"Hey," Ms. McCall said, breaking Isaac out of his thoughts, "I can't sleep either." She held up the phone. "How about we order a pizza?" Just the thought of food made Isaac's stomach growl and he smiled.

Not ideal sleeping conditions, but it still beat Derek's loft by a landslide.

* * *

Something was up with Scott all of the next day.

He was fidgeting with his fingers and casting nervous glances at his pack and spent several minutes at a time staring at the Alpha twins, as if sizing them up. There was also something morose about him. Like he had a cloud hanging over him the whole day.

Around midday, he took Boyd aside and looked like he was starting to reason with him on something. He was careful to take them out of earshot; that included nosey wolves' earshot. Whatever it was that Scott needed to talk to him about, Boyd appeared to adamantly disagree while Scott seemed outright pleading.

Isaac watched it happen from across the busy lacrosse field. He couldn't hear over them over the din of practice, but he could feel. He felt Scott's desperation and Boyd's confusion and frustration. His gaze alternated from his packmates to his teammates. A look saw Stiles doing the same thing. The teen actually tripped over a pile of equipment while looking away.

"Lahey!"

Isaac snapped out of concentration when Coach called his name. The teen looked over to see him gesturing with a stick, "get over here."

"Yeah, coach?" Isaac jogged over and reached out to the stick he was handed.

"Whadya mean, 'yeah'?" Coach Finstock shoved the stick into Isaac's hands and groped for his whistle. "You're up. Go get in line."

Isaac looked up at the long line of players facing the goal. When he agreed to stay on the team, actually playing wasn't something he'd anticipated. Would he be alright? Was it good or bad for the twins? Suddenly he was regretting not fighting Scott on the issue.

"Uh, coach, I think I'm gonna have to sit today out," Isaac twirled the stick in his bare hands, "I'm feeling a little sore." Which wasn't all the way a lie.

"Quit your whining, Lahey," Coach blew his whistle once in the teen's face.

"Jackson used to get passes all the time," Isaac threw his arms out, exasperated. He didn't know if it was safe to play; he needed to get back to the bench.

Coach got as far into Isaac's face as his stature would allow. "Jackson," he seethed, "was a star player." he put a hand on Isaac's shoulder. "Are you a star player, Lahey?"

Isaac hung his head marginally. "No, coach."

"Then you don't get a pass." He put the whistle back up to his lips. "And that goes for all of you knuckleheads! I wanna see some improvement this year, got it?!"

"Coach, we won every game last year," Danny shouted from his position at the front of the line.

Finstock fumbled. "Well then I wanna see some better attitudes! You rugrats are getting lazy!" One short blow of the whistle later and the rest of the players were lined up, including Stiles and Scott, who were both behind Isaac.

"Hey, what was that all about?" Stiles mumbled in Scott's ear. Isaac listened in as he slid on his helmet. "What did you want with Boyd?"

Scott shook his head. "They're just..." he sighed. "I just feel like they're about to do something really stupid."

Another whistle, and Danny was off like a bullet with the ball in his basket. Isaac craned his neck to watch as he twirled his way around the defense and made a shot. Coach cheered him on and called up the next player.

"Hey, why are we even playing?" Stiles asked from behind Scott. "It's not even close to season yet."

"This is recruitment, remember? We had to go through this, too." Scott gestured to the waiting group of lowerclassmen, nervously twirling their sticks and shuffling in their cleats.

"Seems a little late in the year, though, don't you think? Ours was the first day of school."

"Well, maybe it's because of all the murders going on around here? And the animal attacks? And the kidnappings?" Scott sounded tired and fed up. Isaac listened as he raised his gloves and verbally backed off.

"Lahey! C'mon, get your ass in gear, you're up!"

Isaac shifted his attention back to lacrosse, where he had unconsciously moved to the front of the line. He recognized the defense and goalie from last year, but couldn't place their names. Hard to when their faces were obscured by bars, as was his vision. It'd never seemed to be a problem until he was painfully aware of it.

He caught the ball coach tossed him without thinking and readied his stance. He could see a path to the goal, which way the defense would move, and where the goalie would try to block. This was the same drill he'd done a million times. So why did this seem so nerve-wrecking?

Isaac kicked off of the turf and ran towards defense. He knew his teammate would do anything to keep him from reaching the goal, so he had to be sure not to-

Isaac had the wind knocked out of him as an elbow connected staunchly to his stomach. Of all the padding on his body, the one place he needed protected the most was left bare save for a jersey. The defense came rocketing at him like a bull, one shoulder braced for impact. The clash shook both their bodies, but threw Isaac back a good two feet while the other player stayed his solid stance. Isaac staggered, but managed to remain on his feet.

That is, until a stabbing pain pierced his belly like a bullet.

The time it took to collapse, while probably only about three seconds, felt like hours. His knees hit the grass, followed by his hips and his torso, but Isaac didn't pay much mind to it. His attention was focused on holding his midsection, trying to keep the pain in. By the time Scott was at his side, Isaac's body was a folded piece of paper.

"Isaac!" There were three pairs of hands on him; Scott's, Stiles's, and the defense.

"I just blocked him, I didn't think- Did I hit a sore spot, or-?" The student lifted his helmet. He looked worried.

"Look, can you just get back-" Stiles shoved the student out of the way and leaned in to Scott. "We need to get him out of here, we need to get him to Deaton's, we need to get him to your mom- Scott, something could be really wrong-"

"Don't you think I know that?" Scott panicked under his breath. "But we can't just whisk him off to the hospital, not in the middle of school!"

Finally, Coach Finstock noticed what was going on and pushed his way through the crowd that had gathered. "Hey, hey- move it, you little cretins- what happened, is he alright?" He gestured with a nod to Isaac, who was still on the ground, groaning, and obviously not alright.

"Yeah, but coach, we just need to-"

Stiles cut Scott off, "he needs to get to the hospital pronto, coach, he has a chronic problem with internal bleeding." Scott gave his friend a wild look, and was returned with a stoic look that said, "quiet, I've got this."

"Jeezus, why's he even on the team?! Lacrosse isn't walk in the park, or-"

"Coach, Isaac? Hospital? Internal bleeding?"

"Oh, right, right, uh... Does this mean we have to call and ambulance? Hey, someone call a-!"

"No, no, no, coach, we got it!" Stiles started moving to get Isaac's arm over his shoulder. Scott picked up on what he was doing and joined in. "We can take him! I'll drive!"

And the two were staggering away towards the parking lot, carrying Isaac, before the coach could get in a, "wait, I don't think you have permission to," or, "you're not allowed to," or, "you can't miss practice." They were speeding away in the Jeep before they could think better of it.


	7. Peace Offering

"I did warn you, you know." Ms. McCall said, her fingers on Isaac's wrist. "I believe it was something like, 'no overly strenuous or violent activities,' which I'm pretty sure includes lacrosse." She turned back to her clipboard and mumbled something like, "73 beats per minute..." under her breath.

"Yeah, you try convincing the coach that I can't play without going into detail," Isaac replied, shifting in the hospital chair. Ms. McCall had graciously taken time out of her lunch break to help when she saw her son and Stiles drag Isaac into the ER.

Another cramp passed through Isaac's torso and he winced. The pain had long since ebbed out to cramps; not quite as uncomfortable, but nevertheless distracting.

"Well, that's just something you'll have to figure out, and soon. Proportionately, you'd be almost a month into your first trimester. It won't be long until you start showing, especially since you have twins."

Isaac hadn't even thought about that. What would he do when he did start to... show? He could drop out of school for the last couple of weeks, say he was sick. But it was so early in the year; he'd flunk if he missed that much school so soon.

"How bad will it be?" Isaac asked. Ms. McCall gave him a confused look. "I mean... How much will I...?"

"Oh, honey, like I said, you're having twins," she replied, laughing sympathetically, "you'll be huge. I mean, I thought I was big when I had Scott, and then I went to a few training classes and saw some of the women there. One can only assume you'll develop in the same fashion."

Isaac groaned. So hiding it was out of the question. This wasn't something he signed up for when he agreed to the bite last year. In fact, this was nothing he could ever anticipate. All this, the Alpha pack, the Durach... He thought all there was to being a werewolf was everything Derek had told him. Hunters, the full moon, and pack mentality. Life was getting much too surreal for his taste.

Scott and Stiles had been waiting outside in the waiting room the whole time. Whether it was from genuine concern or just because they didn't want to go back to school, Isaac didn't know. But he could partially hear their conversation from through the doors.

"...shouldn't do it, Scott," Stiles warned, "it's too dangerous."  
"I know, but something has to be before another person gets killed," replied Scott. "We've already lost Erica to all this. She was just a kid, just like us, Stiles!"

"Look, I know you feel strongly about this, and I know you wanna march in there, all Superman, and take down the Big Bad Wolf, but there's gotta be a better way than this. You can't just go in there- alone!- and start preaching, Scott, they're not going to listen."

So Scott had a plan; he wanted to face off with Deucalion himself. Isaac tuned his hearing more closely.

"I know, but it's worth a shot," Scott murmured. "Plus, they're not after me, they're after Derek. If I can't get them to listen, they'll probably just beat me up and throw me out or something. But it has to be soon, like right after school. Derek is planning something for tonight."

Stiles sighed. "Look, I know there's no getting through your adamant little werewolf head, so if you're really going to do this, don't go alone. Take Isaac or something."

"You know I can't do that. You saw that happened today at lacrosse; imagine what would happen in instead of an elbow to the stomach, it was a set of claws."

"Yeah, you're right." Stiles sighed again. Isaac could hear him grumble in annoyance. "Just... be as careful as you can, alright? Deucalion isn't playing around, here."

"Alright, I promise."

They went silent after that, probably stewing in their own words. Isaac shifted his focus back to the small examination room. It was a pediatrics office, but it had been the first empty room they'd come across.

"Earth to Isaac," said Melissa, snapping her fingers in the teen's face. She raised an eyebrow. "I called your name like six times. Where were you?"

"Oh, I, uh-" I was listening in on your son's suicide plan. "I was just distracted, uh, sorry."

She nodded. "Uh, huh. Look, I want you guys to get back to school. I'm glad you got here as fast as you could, but now you're place is in class." Ms. McCall slid off her gloves. "You'll be fine as long as you take it easy for the rest of the day."

Isaac nodded and hopped off the table. Based on Scott and Stiles's conversation, he had a feeling he wasn't exactly going to be "taking it easy."

* * *

Scott was being as quiet as he could, which was an easy enough feat to accomplish when you were a being of the supernatural, built for stealth and stalking of prey. Being unheard, however, was not so easy when you shared space with a creature of the same ilk.

Isaac could hear him sneaking around his room, gathering his jacket and boots and helmet. He knew where Scott was going, and he knew that if he didn't go with him, something bad would happen. Scott was putting his life in danger by facing them alone. So when he heard Scott step towards the door, Isaac slid around the corner and faced him.

Scott jumped. "Where're you going?" Isaac asked.

Scott sputtered. "Oh, I, uh..." He twirled his helmet nervously in his hands. He was bad at this. "I was, uh, going to get some food to eat!"

"Oh, cool I'll come with you."

"Ah, uh, no, it's, uh, okay, I can eat alone."

"What're you getting?" Isaac leveled Scott with an amused look.

"Uuuuuuhhh... Mmmexicannnnnn?" He was really bad at this.

"Aw, dude, I love Mexican-"

"Isaac."

Scott was back to the protective older brother mode, with a hand on Isaac's arm and a stern look on his face. "It's okay. I can eat alone."

Isaac smiled and shook his head. "You're not going alone." He grabbed the second helmet and nodded to the door. "C'mon."

But the grip on his arm tightened. The two betas stared at each other, each trying to convey their own warning through their eyes.

"Isaac," Scott's voice lowered in his seriousness, "don't do this. You know you can't come with me."

Isaac shook his arm free of Scott's grip. "And you know you can't do this alone." He once again gestured to the door. This time, however, Scott complied(albeit reluctantly) and led the way out to his bike.

Scott's bike had become Isaac's primary mode of transportation since he'd been staying with Scott. Before, it was his own bicycle, then it was Derek's car. When Derek was no longer an option and it was obvious that Isaac couldn't(or shouldn't) bike for a while, he learned very quickly how to ride passenger on a tiny motorbike.

The ride downtown was wet, thanks to the previous night's rain. It was late in the afternoon, so people were starting to get off work and head home; the city was emptying out into the suburbs in an almost ritualistic fashion.

"We're just going to talk to them," Scott warned, slipping off his helmet and scoping out the area. "Try and reason with them. That's it." He looked back and gave Isaac a warning look.

This was dangerous. There was no reasoning with this adversary; they had proven themselves to be bloodthirsty killers. Scott was blinded by his struggle for peace that he didn't see the risks that went with this, and Isaac was too empathetic to let him go in by himself.

"What?" asked Scott after Isaac had neglected to answer him. He shook his head.

"Nothing, it's just that, uh... I'm actually kind of hungry now."

Scott took in a deep breath and faced front. "Me, too," he replied, clapping Isaac on the back. They both strode forward into the abandoned mall in high hopes that this could possibly end well.

* * *

Deucalion had a presence that could hardly be put into words. He was beautiful and terrible, warm and imposing. At first glance, he's a helpless blind man, tapping away through life, unassuming. Only from the corner of your eye can you feel the awesome presence, see the raw power concealed beneath his pink eyes. If you are alone with him, like Scott and Isaac were in that spacious hall, you feel as if he could burn kingdoms and bring down empires. He could see into your soul without seeing you at all.

Isaac managed to catch Scott's eye as they approached the Alpha. Through Scott's eyes, he was reassured, made confident, but he wasn't sure why. It was a simple glance, but it felt so meaningful. Lately, it had felt like Scott had an influence on him that he couldn't quite describe; Isaac could track it back to when he'd gone to him and Deaton in the clinic and he'd shown him how to share pain. Since then, it wasn't just his trust that Scott had gained that day; it felt more like brotherhood.

"You didn't come alone," Deucalion murmured from halfway up the decrepit escalator. His words rang like a low bell, menacing and just.

"Yeah," Scott replied in similar volume but calmer tone. "This is Isaac." Even though they all knew well that Isaac and Deucalion had met before. Unfortunately, only one out of the three present actually recalled the encounter.

The Alpha kept his head steady, his hypothetical gaze fixed on a point far off in space. "I'm not talking about Isaac."

And that's when both betas heard it; footsteps. A familiar heartbeat. It was their alpha; Derek was here. He stepped out of the shadows, already fully transformed. Silhouettes of Boyd and Cora could be seen behind him.

"You knew I would do this," Scott stated, not asked. He sounded exasperated. "Derek, don't- You can't do this and no one get's hurt, or someone else dies-"

"Him," Derek interjected, raising one claw to the unabashed Deucalion. "Just him."

"Derek, don't-" Scott continued to plead, "we can do this another way! We don't always have to use violence to-"

Derek cut his beta off with a loud snarl. "Don't you get it?" he roared. "This isn't just about territory, or their stupid little pack; it's about what they did to Isaac! What he did!" The same claw gestured once again to the Alpha atop the stair, who stood his ground, not saying a word.

He was responsible. Deucalion was responsible for what had been done to Isaac, everything that he had been though and would go through, for the unwanted creation of two new lives thrust on a group of unsuspecting teenagers. Deucalion had been the one to violate him, to take away his pride and his life. To be blunt, Deucalion had been the one to fuck him down, to rape him, to impregnate him with his hellish spawn.

"Isaac!"

Scott rammed his body up against Isaac's. The beta himself didn't realize he'd transformed until he was raking against Scott's jacket with his claws, trying to break free and tear Deucalion's throat out.

"Him!" Isaac roared. "He did this to me!" He snarled and pushed against Scott restraining arms. "I'll kill him!" His shouts echoed off of the decaying walls, accentuated by the sounds of his scrabbling feet.

Everyone could practically hear the smirk creeping across Deucalion's face. "Now, I wouldn't do that if I were you."

The whole pack turned to the terrible sounds of claws on concrete and saw Kali sliding down a column, her eyes a burning red and her black claws extended. Ennis came from out of the shadows and snarled a vicious snarl. The twins stood atop a crumbling balcony, their stances wide and ready to strike. Scott backed up a fraction as they both leapt off and transformed mid-air, both combining into one terrible, monstrous figure.

They never should have come.


	8. Bus Ride

They had all felt it when Erica died.

None of the pack would admit it to each other, but on that fateful night, late into the night, Derek, Scott, and Isaac had all woken up for seemingly no reason, filled with dread and the feeling of loss. It was like someone had reached into their soul and torn a gaping hole into it. It was fresh and dull and it kept the wolves up through the night. All three had felt loss, but Scott and Isaac had never felt it like this before.

The feeling continued to haunt them until they found Erica's body stashed away in a broom cupboard. Then did they find resolution. Then did they know the source of their silent anguish. The wound had been seared shut, leaving an ugly scar across their wolf's soul. None of them thought that this would be their last scar. Derek was covered in them.

So when that feeling, the feeling of impending dread, the feeling like you've lost more than a friend or a brother, never came, Isaac felt apprehensive.

Perhaps it was because it was their alpha that had died that it felt different, but one would think that if it was the leader and not a mere component that was removed, the emotional impact would magnify, not diminish. So why did Isaac feel whole still? Why was he still in one piece? Yes, he was devastated and in mourning, but his soul felt... normal. Well, as normal as a werewolf soul in a teenager's body could be. In fact, it felt more, like it had been added on to; Isaac attributed that to the presence of the twins. His twins. Not other twins, or one in particular, like the one Boyd was currently sizing up.

"Stop thinking about it, man," Isaac warned. He fidgeted with his fingers and kept his gaze forward. He'd woken up with a bad bout with nausea and would rather not repeat it with added motion sickness.

Boyd half-looked at his fellow beta. "What, you're not thinking about it, too?" he asked. And of course Isaac was thinking about it. of course he was thinking of everything that had happened the night before, the slashing of fangs and claws, getting pulverized and thrown and crushed and torn at, but that Alpha, sitting just across the aisle, and his devilish pack. To make matters worse, said Alpha was sitting with Danny.

Now, Danny wasn't part of the pack, officially. He wasn't even aware of the existence of werewolves or anything out the ordinary in Beacon Hills, as far as they knew. But he was a good friend of Scott and Stiles, and through association, became acquainted with the rest of the pack. He'd also helped them out once or twice in a jam, whether he knew the impact he was making or not. Danny was smart and he was nice and he was an asset, and Ethan was sitting next to him and had been putting the moves on him all week. To make matters worse, the other one was busy getting into Lydia shorts. It made the pack infuriated.

"We'll both stop thinking about it."

But it wasn't that easy. To reflect on everything that had happened the previous night, to know that out there, his alpha was lying in a pool of his own blood, rotting, to know that the ones who killed him were not only on the loose, but one of them was sitting five feet away. To know that you couldn't do a thing about it, because you were on a bus full of kids who knew nothing of the supernatural, who led normal teenage lives, who couldn't even begin to guess that four of their fellow students with them were creatures of fable.

Thunder rumbled outside. Isaac pressed his forehead to the window and watched as angry clouds roiled above them. Ms. McCall didn't want them going out of town with a tornado warning in effect, but one didn't say no to couch. Plus, the trip had already been paid for. So dangerous storm, volatile werewolves, and foreboding feelings or not, the track and lacrosse teams were going to this meet.

Scott and Stiles had been pushed to the back of the bus(or perhaps just headed there out of the empty habits of social rejects), so that left Isaac with no one to talk to but Boyd.

Isaac liked Boyd, but he was also frightened by him. He always had his heart in the right place, but also had a bad habit of going about things the wrong way, the wrong way usually being violence. Isaac had a natural aversion to anything violent- something that, being a werewolf, was quite an emotional setback. So he was always a little wary of Boyd, but respected him all the same. The only problem with Boyd being the only one to talk to, is that Boyd didn't talk. He contemplated and judged silently, but he rarely spoke when word's needn't be spoken.

So Isaac did the same. He sat in silence with Boyd and the bus ride was relatively uneventful. That is, until the bus came to a screeching halt and all the students flew forward in one, collective jolt. Isaac braced himself on the back of the seat and craned to look out the front window. Traffic, as far as the eye could see. He pulled out his phone.

"There's a jackknifed tractor a few miles ahead," he mumbled, tapping away on his phone. The traffic report showed a guess of a few hours' delay. "We could miss the meet." Isaac slid his phone back into his pocket and continued to peer out the window. Then he heard it; a raised pulse, like fire in the veins, right next to him.

"Boyd?" he asked, raising an eyebrow. A quick glance told him as much as his hearing did; Boyd was getting angry, really angry. His heart rate was in the hundreds, his hands were clenching into fists, and his eyes were beginning to smoulder into a dull gold. He turned his head to look back at Ethan and Isaac knew exactly what his aim was.

"Boyd," he said more fervently. He tried to grab at his friend's arm but was shaken off as Boyd's claws came out. Isaac backed against the wall of the bus and watched as Boyd turned his body towards Ethan.

Then reprieve came in the form of Scott McCall, staggering over to them with a... pained expression on his face?

He placed his hand on Boyd's clawed one and lowered himself into the seat adjacent. He leveled Boyd with a strict stare.

"Let. Go," growled Boyd.

"You got a plan," Scott said, faux impressed. He sounded tired. "Tell me your brilliant plan, and I'll let go." The two betas faced each other down. "What're you gonna do? Kill him? Right here? And then what? What're you gonna do after that?"

"I don't care." Boyd tried to shake Scott off, to go at Ethan, but Scott's grip stayed fortunately strong. Boyd growled and struggled, while Isaac checked around to see if anyone, especially Ethan, was watching. No doubt the Alpha could hear them, and most likely he just didn't care.

"I do," Scott said under his breath. His eyes were locked on Boyd's, trying to keep the aggravated teen's concentration.

That's when Isaac caught the scent. Blood. Close by. He looked around; could one of the girls on the team be on her period? No, it was a different kind of blood. A stale, toxic blood. Isaac looked back at Scott, and there- his shirt was stained with a dark red where he'd taken a bad hit last night.

"Whoa, whoa, you're still hurt," Isaac said, indicating the wound with a nod. Boyd seemed to notice as well and stopped struggling.

Scott blinked slowly and sighed. "I'm fine," he said, not sounding fine. "Gimme a chance, to figure something out. Something that doesn't have to end with someone else dying."

Boyd looked from Scott's eyes, to his wound, to Ethan, and back to Scott. "Alright," he replied, sincere. Scott took what he could and returned to his seat. Boyd looked disgruntled for most of the remaining bus ride.

* * *

Sometimes Isaac had to commend Stiles for his impromptu, yet somewhat unorthodox, ingenuity. He always seemed to have an idea, no matter the situation, and sometimes it made things worse, and sometimes it made things profoundly better, but he always had a plan somewhere up his sleeve. Getting Coach to actually pull the bus out into the rest stop needed an a miracle or something similar, and lo and behold, Stiles Stilinski delivered. In the form of Jared's lunch: part 2.

Isaac watched as Allison and Lydia(who had come out of nowhere; he mentally noted to never underestimate those women), with the help of Stiles, drag Scott into the men's bathroom. Scott was in bad shape; it didn't take werewolf senses to figure that out. He never healed from his wounds from last night, and if his stomach looked like that, then his back must be smarting as well.

So why were he and Boyd fine?

Isaac leaned his shoulder against a nearby tree and watched the restrooms. Was he waiting for Scott and the others to come back out? He wasn't sure. Whatever he was doing, he felt like a lost puppy. Waiting for Scott. Looking to Scott for help. Calling out for Scott. Scott seemed to have been on his mind for a while now; too long, it seemed. There was almost a... dependency that had formed. It was this way with Derek for a long time, too. So what was the correlation?

"Don't think we can't smell it on you."

Isaac flinched as he felt Ethan's breath, hot against his ear. He hadn't noticed the Alpha sneak up behind him. Isaac swallowed hard.

"Wh-what?" he stammered. "What can you smell?"

"You know what we can smell." Ethan took a deep breath in through his nose as if to accentuate his point. "We can all smell you getting fat with pups."

Isaac stiffened. He could feel his blood beginning to heat and he wondered why he ever stopped Boyd from ripping the Alpha's throat out.

"Even your fellow betas can smell it. Your scent hangs off you like a cloud. I'm surprised the humans can't smell it, too." Ethan said every word like an insult, and even though what he was saying wasn't all that demeaning, it all stung in Isaac's heart like poison darts.

Scott's words rang in his ears; he couldn't kill him, not here. He couldn't wolf out and not have the whole team knowing what he was. He'd expose himself. He'd expose the others. He'd go back to jail or go back to being a fugitive. He couldn't do anything as a werewolf, not here.

"You're getting weak, Lahey. Soon, you won't be able to fight." Ethan leaned in so Isaac could practically feel his fangs on the shell of his ear. "You'll be all swollen up with our Alpha's pups like the bitch you are."

Isaac tore away from the tree, fists clenched into tight balls, his claws threatening to protrude any second. Ethan was left behind, laughing at his success to infuriate the young wolf. He needed to calm down, he needed an anchor, he needed Scott-

Where was Scott?

"Where's Scott?" he came up to Stiles, who was nervously tapping his foot outside the men's restroom. Stiles jerked his thumb behind him.

"Still in there with Allison."

Isaac looked back at the crowd of students- the crowd that was steadily streaming back into the bus. "What are they still doing in there? The team's getting ready to go."

"I know, okay, I-" Stiles stopped himself with a hand on his mouth. He was freaking out. "He just needs more time. Allison's trying to stitch him up, okay? We just-" The coach yelled one more time for the students to get their asses in gear. "We need a distraction."

Isaac paused and looked back at Ethan. "I can do a distraction." And that's when Isaac figured that he didn't have to do anything as a werewolf; he could do plenty as a human.


	9. Puppy

Isaac wasn't sure when it stopped being for Scott and started being for him. It may or may not have been somewhere in between the sixth punch and the shit-eating grin Ethan gave him with a mouth full of blood.

Above him, he knew Boyd was smiling; he was getting the violence he'd wanted after all. But it wasn't him; it was meek little Isaac who cowered at small spaces and avoided refrigerators. Poor little Isaac who'd taken the punches for so long, was now dishing out a few of his own.

Somewhere in the back of his mind he wondered why Ethan was so okay with getting punched in the face. He quickly snuffed that thought out with a few more right hooks to the Alpha's jaw.

A crowd, of course, had gathered. High school students has the uncanny ability to flock whenever or wherever there was a fight. They gaped and gasped as Isaac threw punch after tireless punch, none of them daring to get in the middle of it. Coach had come over, too, and was repeatedly yelling his name, but Isaac didn't care. Each time his fist connected with Ethan's jaw, he could feel a little bit of it splinter and a little of his knuckle start to give, but by the time he was winging again, they were both already healed.

"Isaac!"

And the world went silent. The crowd stopped cheering, Coach stopped shouting, and Isaac's fist stalled in mid-air. Scott stood above the scene, smelling like blood and the floor of the bathroom, looking for the world like a disapproving parent would. Isaac straightened himself and immediately Danny went for Ethan like the pawn he didn't know he was.

Isaac smiled a little in hopes that Scott wouldn't be too mad; it started out as a distraction for him, and after all, it worked.

"Alright, you cretins, back on the bus!" Coach Finstock blew a sharp note on his whistle and the students steadily filed back onto the newly-sanitized bus. It was another five hours until their next stop; another five hours cooped up in an enclosed space with Ethan, surrounded by students.

At least Lydia and Allison are here, Isaac thought. They were pack, too. Pack meant family, meant comfort.

At least in five hours he could get off that God-forsaken bus.

* * *

Isaac wished he were back on that God-forsaken bus. It would have been better than the cheap-ass motel they were staying at.

There were roaches in the tub, the blankets were itchy, and the TV literally had nothing on it. They didn't even put out the little soaps.

"Just for one night," Isaac whispered, repeating Allison's words from earlier. Just until the sun came up. Then they were off to the mee and then they would go home. Back to Beacon Hills. Back to Scott's house.

Isaac laid back on the rickety bed and rubbed his eyes. His head hurt. It had for most of the day. He'd heard Scott complaining about a headache, too. The trip was taking a toll on all of them; Scott's wound, Ethan, all on top of worrying about what was happening back home with the Darach. And after the night at the abandoned mall-

The ancient door swung open as Boyd reentered the room. He tossed a package of peanut butter crackers on the bed next to Isaac.

"Here," he grumbled and sat down on the edge of his own bed. Isaac rolled over and looked at them, then rolled back over.

"I'm not hungry," he replied. After the day's occurrences, the last thing he wanted to do was eat.

"You gotta eat." Boyd didn't look at him. Instead, he fixed his gaze on an invisible spot on the carpet. He looked tired. Isaac noticed how he had his hand balanced carefully on his thigh.

"Hey, you're bleeding," said Isaac, indicating Boyd's bloody knuckles. "What happened?"

Boyd didn't respond. He just kept staring at the carpet, unmoving.

"Hey, what's up with you?" Isaac sat up and looked his friend over. Boyd shook his head.

"Nothing," he murmured. "Headache." He stood up and headed back to the door that he neglected to close. "I'm gonna go get some ice."

And he left. Isaac glanced back at the package of crackers. Boyd was right- he should eat. It wasn't just him he was eating for.

As he munched on the stale food, Isaac listened to everything that was happening outside. Allison and Lydia were talking in their room. Two students from the track team were having sex. Boyd was out front, like he said, getting ice. But there was something else in the air, too. Something that made it not quite so silent. A hum, a buzz, maybe? Maybe it was the thrum of all the heartbeats in the building collective into one cloud of sound to Isaac's sensitive ear. Or maybe it was something bigger. Maybe it wasn't just heartbeats from the now; maybe it heartbeats and voices and shoes scuffings from decades past, of the lives of all the people that had passed through these rooms. It was the hum of life.

And the hum of death.

At some point, Isaac must have dozed off. He opened his eyes when he thought he heard something, a real something, in the room. Was Boyd back? And if he wasn't, then where was he?

"Boyd?" Isaac rasped, his voice quiet and cautious. He could feel a cold sweat on his brow. No reply. Maybe Boyd was out talking to Scott or Stiles. Just never bothered to come back to the room. That sounded right, so Isaac closed his eyes and tried to fall back to sleep.

But there was that noise again. A clinking. A thumping. It was familiar. It sounded like a memory, or maybe several memories at once.

Isaac moved to the front of his bed and looked around his room. The sound didn't seem to come from one place, but from everywhere.

"Hand me the 7/16ths wrench," a voice echoed. A familiar voice. A terrible voice. Isaac stilled like a deer in headlight.

"What the hell? This is the 9/16ths, you moron! You know what the difference is between a seven and a nine is, dumbass?"

"You know the difference between a seven and a nine, it's a stripped bolt!"

"-A stripped bolt!"

"I'm sorry, I didn't m... What do you want me to do?"

I want you to shut up!

"I want you to shut up- shut up- just shut up!" The words that were coming out of Isaac were the words in the room. Or were the words coming out of Isaac the words in the room? "I can't fix this now! I can't fix it- I c-can't fix-"

"I can't even keep it closed. Grab the chains."

What?

"Grab the chains and get it. I said get in."

The sound of clinking now filled the room. It went from ceiling to floor, from wall to wall, and it filled his ears and his head and his body.

"Are you not hearing me, son? Get in the damn freezer!"

"GET IN!"

No, said Isaac's primal instincts kicking in as he scrambled back to the headboard, grabbed the closest shield and defended himself. But it was too late. By the time he lifted his head, he was already inside.

Isaac had learned how to survive in the freezer. He learned that in the freezer, there was no air, and he would run out faster if he screamed. So he didn't scream. He stayed completely still, curled into a tight ball, and took shallow breaths. He would be let out soon, if his dad hadn't forgotten about him. Then he would get him the wrench. The right wrench. Then he could fix it. He could fix it.

Until then, Isaac covered with both hands his soft belly to keep them safe from the freezer.

* * *

Isaac roared back into consciousness, eyes glowing, claws flashing, a few hours later with a fresh burn mark across his wrists. He hit his head on the bottom of the bed as scrambled out, flailing his arms and looking around wildly for the perpetrator.

The perpetrator came in the form of Stiles Stilinski, who was frantically trying to put out a sparkling road flare.

Everything that had come before was a blur; he remembered his dad's voice, angry and menacing with familiar malice. He remembered the disappointment and the fear and the cowardice. Isaac remembered feeling all these things but couldn't remember why.

"What happened...?" he croaked. His voice was sore. Had he been screaming, crying?

"The wolves are going crazy," Stiles replied, trying to smother the flame in a wet towel. "We're thinking it has something to do with the Darach."

"Oh." Isaac nodded. His wrists were healing, but they stung. A quick mental search told him that the rest of his body, inside and out, was unhurt. Thank God.

Boyd stepped out of the bathroom, rubbing a towel over his sopping body and looking for the world like he could use a drink. They needed to get out of this hotel.

"We need to get out if this hotel," said Isaac.

"What we need to do is find Scott," Allison pointed out. Where was Scott? Was he going crazy, like Stiles said? He seemed too collected to go nuts like he and Boyd had. Had Ethan been affected? Isaac hoped Ethan had been affected.

"Alright, Boyd, you and puppy stay here while we find Scott." Stiles frantically pointed around the room before he, Allison, and Lydia all ran out of the door.

There was silence in the room for a while as Boyd continued to dry himself off.

"...Did he call me puppy?"

* * *

The pack was all led into the bus later that night, after Scott washed off the acrid smell of gasoline, and just resolved to sleep there. They all agreed that the motel was cursed and they would never have anything to do with it again.

The revelation that there was wolfsbane in the coach's whistle did nothing to hamper this opinion, although it did raise several other questions. The darach had access to the coach's whistle, so that meant it had to be either a student or a student.

It was someone close. Knowing that was almost painful, that this killer was just that much out of reach.


	10. Pants

Isaac had always liked nice clothes. Sweaters, scarves, boots, jackets... Every time he'd go to the department store with his dad he'd always wander over to the menswear and look at all the nicely dressed mannequins. Of course, his dad never got him anything nice like what they were wearing; Isaac was stuck usually with hand-me-downs from distant cousins or cheap clearance clothes. He always told himself, at least I have clothes.

But when he joined Derek's pack, there was hope yet for his fashion sense. Erica, in her newfound confidence, had developed a new style of her own and significantly looser pockets. Most people failed to realize that Erica was in a similar situation financially as Jackson; her father being an insurance agent had no shortage of money, and now that there were no medical bills to pay, their family could afford to do things like give their recently socially-transformed daughter money. Once Isaac was over with being a fugitive, she had decided it was time for him to get some new clothes, seeing as all of his and his father's things were repossessed by the bank.

Erica's parents were a bit disturbed, of course, by the sudden shopping sprees, but this was slightly overshadowed by the fact that her epilepsy had somehow vanished.

But now Erica was gone. And all Isaac had left of her were those nice clothes she had bought him. And now he couldn't even wear them.

He already outgrown at least one pair of his jeans. The rest would be soon to follow. And seeing as Isaac was a homeless, unemployed, pregnant student, he was sure he wouldn't be getting any new pants anytime soon. He was reduced to borrowing clothes.

The only drawback was that Isaac happened to be an unfortunate few inches taller than most of his friends. Most, but not all.

"Hey, Boyd, can I borrow some pants?"

His fellow beta looked up incredulously from his curly fries. Isaac sat awkwardly twiddling his thumbs in the seat across. Boyd raised an eyebrow.

"Pants?"

"Yeah. Stretchy ones, preferably."

An odd silence formed between the two betas. Isaac avoided eye contact while Boyd just poked at his curly fries. Finally, he sighed in resignation and looked up at Isaac.

"Sure. I'll drop them off after school."

Isaac grinned and slapped Boyd on the shoulder. "Thanks, buddy."

It was worth pointing out again that Isaac was fond of Boyd. Being part of the same pack must have had some impact on their relationship; there was a sort of instinct to want to be close to members of your pack. That's why Isaac preferred staying with Scott; he was pack, so there was a familiarity. Plus, he trusted Scott. But with Boyd, there was a different trust. It was like if he fell back, Isaac knew he'd be there to catch him. Sure, Boyd was aggressive, and sure, he was a little distant, but he was pack, and that meant more than family to Isaac.

Also, he was the only was taller than Isaac. A guy had to get his stretchy pants from somewhere.

Boyd did as he said and dropped them off later Scott's(Scott himself had gone out to deliver dinner to his mom at the hospital), only instead of a pair of sweatpants, it was a barrage of pants; jeans, khaki, shorts, and eventually, sweatpants.

"What's all this...?" Isaac asked, confused, while rifling through the garbage bag of clothing his fellow beta had brought him. There were even a couple shirts.

"Clothes," Boyd said simply. "It's all stuff that Erica bought me that was too small. I figured it would fit you just fine." Isaac didn't need to look up to see the bitter frown on Boyd's face. Talking about Erica was a touchy subject- she was the first person Boyd had let get that close to him. No one reacted stronger than he did when they lost her.

Isaac stood up and smiled at Boyd. "Well, thanks a lot. I'll make good use of all this." He held up the bag and Boyd grinned a little bit. They shared a mutual nod and he left without another word. When you were talking with Boyd, there wasn't all that much actual talking.

Isaac headed upstairs to what had become his makeshift bedroom. Ms. McCall, with Scott's help, had set it up for him. It wasn't much other than a spare mattress with sheets, a chest-of-drawers, a mirror, and a desk, but it was better than any couch. Isaac cried when he saw it and that's when they all realized that the pregnancy hormones had kicked in.

Isaac had been a lot more emotional as of late, he realized. He seemed more shaken by all the deaths and kidnappings, more anxious about the Alphas, more stressed about school. Being near his pack helped a lot, but Isaac had a lot of classes where he was all by his himself. No level-headed Stiles, comforting Scott, or brave Allison, and that's when he got worried.

And to make matters worse, he had to pee practically every class period. That wore thin on some teachers pretty fast.

"Mr. Lahey, I'm going to have to deny your request," Ms. Blake said sweetly one morning. "You've asked to go to the bathroom every day as of late. I think you can manage to sit through biology once this week." And with that, she went back to the slideshow.

As there had been no proper replacement for Mr. Harris yet, Ms. Blake was stuck subbing for biology, an interesting subject for an English teacher to instruct. And while Isaac had to admit she wasn't bad on the eyes, there was something about her that seemed... impersonal. She seemed detached from everything, like she was below it. Or above it.

Nevertheless, Isaac was going to be late to his next class due to a detour to the bathroom. However, he would soon discover, he would never make it to his next class.

Scott barreled into him as the halls were emptying into classrooms. He didn't have any books on him and his next class was in the opposite direction.

"Whoa, sorry," Scott cried, steadying the two of them. "Sorry, sorry, uh, are you hurt? Did I hit you?" He proceeded to look Isaac up and down and flounder like a mother hen.

"Scott- Scott!" Isaac pried his fellow beta's hands off him, "I'm fine. Where're you going?"

"Uh, I need to go, Deaton's about to- I mean, he's the next-" Scott searched, internally and externally, for the words to say, but Isaac got the picture. After what had happened the previous night, with the two doctors, Deaton being the next sacrifice wasn't that much of a stretch.

"What do you need to do?"

"I need to leave," Scott said, looking more worried by the second. But then he paused and looked up at Isaac. "Actually, you need to leave, too."

"Do you want me to go with you?"

"No, no, actually, I want you to go to Derek's. Boyd, too. Cora said something earlier," Scott waved vaguely in the air, "something about the Alpha pack. They're gonna attack. Tonight."

So Derek needed backup. Well, any reason to leave school early. Isaac nodded. "Go," he said, pushing Scott in the direction of the door. He needed to find Boyd.

* * *

"What is this supposed to accomplish, again?"

"Just shove it in my face, c'mon. We don't have a lot of time."

Boyd stood with Isaac, down the hall from the nurse's office, with a bottle of women's perfume in his hand(strawberry passion breeze). Boyd looked a little skeptic and sounded even more so.

"I dunno about this," he said, twirling the bottle in his hands. "Can this really make you puke? Just like that?"

"I can smell differently now," Isaac explained in a rush, "different than before. Like, certain smells are so strong, they make me nauseous. Lately it's been perfume, and we need to get to Derek's quick, so I need you to spray me right in the face."

Getting sick on purpose was probably the lowest thing on Isaac's bucket list, but they needed a reason to get out of school, and if he could present irrefutable proof, then all the better.

"Can't we just leave school? I mean, Scott-"

"Boyd," Isaac locked eyes with the taller beta, "if you don't spray with that perfume right now, I'm going to rip your throat out." He hadn't meant to sound so violent, but they were in a rush and lately he'd felt it was easier to get angry. Boyd shook his head, raised the bottle, and pressed on the nozzle.

The effects were immediate. The stuff was potent, and even if he weren't pregnant, even if he didn't have super-werewolf smell, he probably still would've gagged.

"Omigod," Isaac groaned, leaning over. He could feel the smell of fake strawberries swimming in his head and rearranging his organs and constricting his throat and he reached out to Boyd for support.

"Did it work?" Boyd asked, taking Isaac's arm.

"Oh yeah, it worked," Isaac managed to squeak out between gags. "Now get me to the nurse's before I vomit all over you."

Boyd didn't need to be told twice. He slung Isaac's arm over his massive shoulders and walked him the fifteen feet to the nurse's.

* * *

"Go back to school."

Isaac smiled as he and Boyd entered Derek's downtown loft. His alpha probably heard them coming from down the block.

"Well, actually, we can't," Isaac called into the space. "Well, I can't. Boyd here is my, uh... getaway. See, I've come down with an incredibly sudden bout of nausea." He smirked when he saw Derek perched at the top of the staircase, looking down as his betas drew nearer.

"We're here to protect you," Boyd explained. Their alpha came down, an incredulous, but amused, look on his face.

"You're here to protect me?" he asked, looking between the two of them. "Well, I'm in trouble." He stopped in front of Isaac and raised an eyebrow. "And what do you mean 'we?' You shouldn't even be leaving the house."

"If you're done doubting our competence, Boyd here came up with a plan," Isaac retorted shortly. he flipped lazily through a book on the table, not really reading it. He had the suspicion that Derek just kept it there because it looked important.

"I was thinking about the time Gerard had me and Erica locked up," Boyd knelt down and unzipped the duffle he'd brought in with him, "and tied up with electrical wires, pushing a current through us. I was thinking of how we could do something like that." Out of the duffle came a bundle of thick wires. "But on a bigger scale."

Isaac looked from Boyd to Derek, searching for a reaction. Derek seemed... genuinely impressed in his betas. After a brief contemplation period, he gave a quick nod and they went to work.

Boyd and Isaac got busy hooking the wires up to main power in the loft while Derek grabbed a hose and started turning the floor into a concrete swimming pool.

"Why is there even a hose here?" Isaac asked, watching the floor get saturated.

"This place used to be a factory building," Derek explained as he set up wooden slats for them to walk on. "They needed a quick and easy way to clean up when the day was done. We're just lucky they decided to keep that feature when they turned these into lofts."

Across the room, Boyd flipped a switch and the lights came back on. That meant the wires were live and they had to stay on the slats lest they be electrocuted when Boyd threw them into the now four-inch-deep pool that was Derek's apartment.

Isaac looked over the room. That wire had crackled with electricity as soon as it hit the surface of the water. Now it was quiet, like a silent killer. "Will this kill them?"

Boyd sighed. "God, I hope so."


End file.
